The (Big) Fight
by Miss x Massacre
Summary: He finally admitted it. "I met someone else..." {Portia x Tommy x Angie} Pre-Instant Star. [Rated T for Language]


**Title:** The (Big) Fight  
 **Author** : Miss x Massacre  
 **Universe** : Instant Star  
 **Characters** : Portia x Tommy x Angie  
 **Author's** **Note** : So, I know – I know 'Back to You' should be updated, but I'm hitting a wall at the end of the next chapter and am slowly but surely milking it out of me. So, instead of wallowing in my writer's block, I am attempting to get the fuzz out with one shots. I was going to post this under "Twilight Tales" but this is not a Jommy. This is not happy. This is heartbreak. Tragedy. Right up my alley, guys! This is a beautiful song and though, literally, anything could be made into Jommy – I feel like this is a more fitting situation for the song. And I've not seen a fic like this on the site before. Please, enjoy! And as I always say…reviews = warm fuzzies.  
 **Author's Note pt.** **2** : I should say that the lyrics in this begin with Portia and Tommy's beginning dialogue in italics, but move to just be featured between paragraphs. The song is a call and answer one, which is why I found it fitting to begin that way. Anywho, just thought I should add that lest anyone be confused.  
 **Disclaimer** : I own nothing in this fic. Instant Star and all characters belong to CTv and the channel formerly known as The-N. Song belongs to the geniuses that make up the Canadian band, Stars. It, like this fic, is entitled "The Big Fight". Check them out, I've been obsessed with them forever now. Please obsess with me. xx

* * *

The (Big) Fight

Portia screeched as she stormed down the short hall from their shared bedroom to the full size living room that could house a basketball court. Her hair flew wildly around her face as she brought her hands up to punch Tommy wherever her hands could reach. He finally admitted it. Though she suspected for _months_ while he was away on tour that he had something extra on the side, she kept hopes alive that the vows they made to one another at a 24-hour Vegas chapel with Elvis officiating would mean something.

They did to her anyway.

Instead, he fucked Boyz Attack's back up singer.

And now… _now_ he claimed he was in love with her.

Didn't he just tell her that the night before on the phone? While he was awaiting his flight back to her – his _wife_?

He held up his arms, partially blocking his face. She had every right to be mad and made no move to stop her anger. She would tire herself out eventually. And he was right. After several punches to his ribs, head and back – her screeches of anger turned into sobs of sadness.

How had she let his happen?

She thought she excited him enough. That he _really_ wanted her. That his womanizing, manwhore days were behind him.

Instead, she was what Darius told her she'd exactly would be – cheated on.

She shook her head woefully as she backed away from him, her eyes on the floor. Trudging over to their plush leather couch, she sat down as the tears flowed freely and the sobs became harder to quiet. " _How could you do it_?" She asked, holding her hands up in front of her and finally sparing him a glance.

He'd come to sit down across from her on the loveseat, his head in his hands. " _I couldn't say…_ "

She choked out another sob and held the back of her hand to her lips. This was the worst day of her life. Here she was, so happy to have her husband home after a long ten-month tour, only to have her hopes and dreams crushed by the words that came from his beautiful lips the moment he walked through the door. " **I met someone else…** "

 _Years built on sand, June until May._

"How long?" She asked, knowing she didn't want to hear the answer but needing to know the truth.

He was quiet for a beat, afraid of what answering her question might mean for him. She looked broken and inside Tommy was torn. He cared for Portia, but was he honestly in love with her? No. He thought he was at one time, briefly, when he put the ring on her finger, but maybe that was lust just blinding him.

Something about Angie, though. She was so…so… _real_. She appreciated who he really was, as a person, and not just some fabrication of Darius Mills. He carefully eyed her before finally answering.

"Since before our tour started. We – we kinda hit it off during rehearsals before we took off."

Portia looked away as she choked out another sob, her tears never ceasing. He was messing with her before they even got married. How could she not see it?

 _Second to second – lied even while you held my hand._

Maybe she was so blinded by her own love for him that she refused to acknowledge it. She'd heard some about his troubled past, never from him directly though, and attributed that to his far off looks, the wall he seemed to put up. Looking back, now in hindsight, she should have read the signs for what they were.

Tom watched as she fell apart again, her hand to her chest as she rocked ever so slightly, attempting to calm her sobs. He had leaned forward, his elbows on his knees with hands clasped in front of him when she finally got up. As she walked, too calmly it seemed, towards their bedroom he stayed planted in his seat and followed her with his eyes. A few minutes passed, he figured she went in to fall asleep but instead, she came out with one of his duffel bags. She paused behind the couch and brought the bag to her chest before throwing it across the space to him.

He fell back against the back of the loveseat as it hit him in the face, his arms instinctively wrapping around it.

"What is this?" He asked, standing up and tossing it down on the cushions.

"You need to leave, Tom." She said, her voice portraying the tiredness reflected in her eyes. "Go…I – I just can't even look at you right now."

 _It's death for the living.  
Yes, I am a ghost._

"This is my apartment." He said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"That my brother pays for." She said, crossing her arms as well. "Leave."

Without another word, he snatched his bag off the loveseat and stormed out the door. As the door slammed shut, she fell to the floor and began sobbing again. She'd never felt this kind of pain before. She laid on the floor for an undeterminable time before Darius burst through the door.

"Porsh…" He murmured as he came over to scoop up his baby sister in his arm, rubbing her back.

"Don't say it, Dar. Don't say 'I told you so'." She said between tears into the crook of his neck.

He turned to carry her to her bedroom but walked over the couch after much protesting from Portia. Gently he laid her down on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket on the back of it and covering her up. He could kill Thomas Jacques DuToir then as he watched his baby sister bury her face into the cushion, her body racking with the cries she was trying to hide. He sat on the floor, rubbing her back until she fell asleep before quietly sneaking out.

 _The mirror is cloudy, I loved you the most.  
You threw out the pieces, did things we didn't understand._

It took him about a week before he could finally face Tommy without resorting to violence. He was half-dressed, a towel hanging low on his hips as he answered the hotel room door. Darius stood in the doorway, a tight look on his face, both hands crossed and clenched in front of him. They didn't speak a word, but Tom opened the door wider and gestured for Darius to come in. Luckily, Angie had just left to get food.

Whatever Darius was about to do or say, she didn't need to be there to witness it.

Half of Tommy was sure that he was going to pummel him, the other half figured his Boyz Attack career was over – Chaz would be so delighted. Instead Darius stood in the sitting room of the suite and eyed Tommy several seconds before speaking.

"Angie is fired." He said firmly, puffing his chest up. "She will no longer work for me, Boyz Attack, or Dexterity Productions."

"What?!" Tom said incredulously.

"She's a threat, T. I ain't having this shit in my group. I told you, even before you married Portia, that this tour was going to be different. I'm tired of y'all Boyz fucking every female on the crew and then I need to replace them because y'all are done with 'em. You just made it worse because while you're doing all this fuckin' – you're married to my baby sister." Tom sighed heavily, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should be glad I don't terminate your contract and blackball you to the industry."

"Why don't you? I'm tired of all this running, I'm almost 20, D. It's been four years of non-stop recording, tours, interviews, music videos. I need something more than this…boy band."

"What like a solo career?" Darius barked in laughter. "You're too profitable as a group. Boyz Attack will continue on until I say it's done." He moved to cross his arms in front of his chest. "So, what are you going to do?" When Tom didn't answer, he repeated himself. "What are you going to do regarding my baby sister?"

Tom sighed and sat down on the chaise lounge, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I don't know, D…" He trailed off, running his hand through his still damp hair.

"Are you doing to divorce her?"

Tom shocked even himself when he responded, quite forcefully, "No!"

"You're damn right you're not." Darius said, sitting down across from him leaning forward with elbows on knees as well. "If you want to keep living this lush life, you leave Angie. Today. Make it work with my sister because I'll be damned if I have to pick her up off the floor again…you hear me?"

 _He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go.  
He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go._

Why did he say that? Why in the hell did he say he wouldn't divorce Portia when that's all he and Angie had been talking about these past couple days? They'd been making plans. He figured Darius would release him. They could move out of Toronto, find a house, get married, have a couple kids even. Angie was the first woman he could see more than just one night in the future with.

Now he'd gone and fucked it up.

Tom knew the weight that Darius' threats held. He dared not to rock the boat. So, when Darius left no more than ten minutes later, Tom began haphazardly throwing his clothes into the duffle bag before rushing out of the hotel room with no note left behind.

When Angie came into the room to see several pieces of clothes left behind, a shoe poking out from underneath the bed, she knew what happened. He left. Just like he said he wouldn't. She dropped the bags of food to the floor, leaning her back against the shut hotel room door and slid down to sit on the carpet.

Though no sound or tears came, Angie could feel the pain blooming inside of her. Starting at her heart, spreading through her chest, squeezing her throat, and knotting around her stomach. She'd be damned if they'd see her cry. Her brother, Hunter, made sure of one thing as they grew up together – that she was tough. There wasn't anything that she couldn't handle; whether it be a heavy box, a drunk female running her mouth, or even a heartbreaking, sexy as hell, fucked up boy bander like Tommy freakin' Q.

She would handle it. She'd compartmentalize the pain and continue on like he hadn't just ripped her soul from her body when he left.

 _She started breaking, but she still won't let it show.  
He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go…_

Angie didn't hear from him again until three weeks later. She'd been informed of her immediate dismissal from Dexterity and knew that finding another job within the music industry wasn't going to be easy. So, she settled on a job waiting tables at a diner over in the entertainment district of Toronto. They made the waitresses sing for the customers and had immediately fell in love with her voice at her interview. She hoped that maybe, just maybe, a label owner would decide to come in for lunch one day and sign her.

 _The clothes in the wardrobe...  
Just send them to me._

Through the grapevine, Angie heard Tommy had whisked Portia away on a second honeymoon to Italy where they renewed their vows at a pristine Catholic chapel. That'd made her snort with laughter when she heard those details. Tommy Q inside a _church_? She was surprised it didn't burn down the second he stepped foot inside.

She'd also heard that Portia was knocked up and Tommy was planning on naming his first born after him, whether it be male or female. She shook her head at the rumor, knowing that it was untrue. Darius wouldn't allow that to happen.

 _There are bills here for you,  
That's cause nothing is free._

He called her late at night after she was already a bottle and a half into the Cabernet Sauvignon she ordered from room service. She was still staying at the hotel suite that she and Tommy were sharing, still on his credit card, making sure to rack up hundreds of dollars' worth of room service.

"Ang?" He said timidly on the phone when she answered. He'd called the hotel room line and she wasn't expecting to hear his voice when she picked up. She was hoping it was Marcus from downstairs letting her know that her roast duck would be up soon. Nothing like a two hundred-dollar meal to quell a broken heart.

"Tommy?" She said, her words slightly slurred. "What do you want?"

"I – I was just calling to see how you were doing?"

"What does it matter to you, anyway? You left, you went back to your wife, just like you said you wouldn't." She said, lifting the cup in the air and pointing as if he were right in front of her.

Tom sighed into the receiver. "I'm sorry, girl. You wouldn't – "

"Understand." She finished for him with underlying sarcasm in her voice. "Fuck you."

" _Angela…_ " The way he said her name, breathily with a sense of need was her undoing. Big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

"No, Tommy. I – I can't do this." She said, shaking her head. "You – "

Just then, on the other end of the receiver, Angie could hear a feminine voice in the background. She choked back her cries as Tommy answered, seemingly holding the phone down from his ear.

 _Is she in the background?  
I just wouldn't know._

"Are you still there?" Came his voice after a few minutes.

"Yes…" She answered as she gulped back the wine remaining in her glass, the tears that were threatening now dry.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry…"

"Yeah." She shrugged simply, even though she knew he couldn't see her. Then she spoke without thinking and immediately regretted it. "Do you regret it? Us? Do you regret us?"

"No," He breathed out quickly, like he'd just came up for air. "Of course not."

Her chin trembled, and she shook her head, wishing the tears away. "I – I have to go."

 _Did I build you a prison?  
Please don't let me go…_

"Angie, baby, please…"

"No, Tommy. You can't 'Angie, baby' me and expect that forgiveness would just flow from me." She said, sorrow in her voice. "That's now how that works…I have to be done. We…are done. So – so go…be married to Portia and make wonderful for music for that tyrant. Don't worry about lil ol' me, I will be _fine_."

"I still love you." He whispered, and she closed her eyes against the words. She didn't reply, and he spoke again, in a rush. "Let's run away together."

"No, Tommy, we – we can't."

 _I've unlocked the door, but you can't walk away from me…_

"Yes…yes we can." He said, hope in his voice. "My grandparents have a house in Nova Scotia…no one knows about it, except my family. They wouldn't find us there. We stay there for a little bit…then we could go somewhere else…somewhere warm and tropical." She let herself get whisked away to this tropical setting he was painting in her mind. "You in a bikini, on the beach…it would be perfect."

"Okay," She finally said, her heart pounding at the idea. "Let's do it. Let's runaway together…"

The next few days they spent on the phone, making plans. Tommy was telling her everything was handled, and she felt confidence in his convictions that he was going to leave Portia no matter the cost to his career. She was looking forward to the prospect of their relationship, of getting away from everything. Though Tommy could offer her anything materialistic that she wanted, all she wanted was to spend time with him that wasn't on anyone else's clock…and _maybe_ his last name.

It was when Angie was packing her bags, throwing the extra toiletries from the hotel bathroom into her suitcase, that her brother, Hunter, came to visit. She opened the door and let him in but returned to her flurry of packing and straightening up the room.

"Ang, ang…" Hunter said, moving directly in front of her path so that she was forced to stop. He placed his hands on his shoulders, a concerned look washing over his features. "What are you doing?"

Angie rolled from his hold easily, pacing over to her bag and dropping the couple towels that she had used into it. "Me and Tommy…" She said breathily, a cross between Audrey and Princess Di, brushing her hand through the air as if it was no big deal. As if the last time Hunter heard, Tommy Quincy was touring Italy with Portia Mills while she wallowed in a Canada with a bottle of wine. "We're doing it – we're running away."

Hunter stopped his path to her in shock. "Do you really think that's a good idea? He's still married, Ang."

"Oh, Portia?" She said with a roll of her eyes. "He's leaving her."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. Then we're leaving for the coast, after that – who knows? St. Barts, Bermuda…somewhere warm and sunny." She said, staring off with a dazed look in her eyes. "Don't worry, bro, I will send you post cards."

Hunter shook his head. "Angela. This is not going to end well."

"Hunter, I'm a big girl." She said, reaching over to close the suitcase and zip it shut. "And I love him. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I can't pass this opportunity for love up."

 _He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go.  
He doesn't want her, but he just won't let it go._

Angie stepped out of the cab in front of Tommy's apartment building, a wide smile on her face. He was already out waiting for her and she stopped short of his arms when she noticed he wore sweats and a hoodie. No bags were in sight. Her mind began reeling and her heart thumped a familiar pace as he walked closer to her.

"How could you?" She asked, shaking her head. The look on his face said it all. He wasn't leaving.

"Angie…it's…"

"Complicated. I know. You say this every fucking time!" She yelled, fighting the urge to pull her own hair out. "And like a dumbass, I fall for it! Every. Single. Time!"

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck your apologies, Thomas _DuToir_!"

"Ang…" He sighed, looking away and grabbing his keys from the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie. "Come on, let's go for a ride…we can talk, I can explain everything to you."

"What is there to explain, Tommy? Huh? Tell me that." Angie grit her teeth in anger. "Why am I so easy to give up? Don't I mean anything to you?"

 _She started breaking but she still won't let it show.  
He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go._

"You mean the world to me, girl." He moved forward to cup her cheeks in his hand. "This…us…it's just not going to work. If I'd met you sooner…before…I – I…"

She looked away and stepped away from his hold, swallowing her tears as she did. "No."

"I'm so sorry, baby." He stooped to try to look her in the eye. "Angie, please, understand."

"No." She repeated and finally looked at him, a steel resolve in her eyes. "Give me the keys."

"What?"

"Of all the lousy shit that you've done to me, I think I deserve this much."

"No, Ang. Not the Porsche." He held the keys back, shaking his head.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She thumped her fists against his chest before changing her stance. Her voice became tearful as she leaned her head on his chest. "I love you, Tommy…please."

As he relaxed his stance to bring his hands by his side and put his arms around her, she reached and snatched the keys from his hand. She shoved away from him and shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "You're an asshole." She stalked off, leaving her bags on the curb.

He stared after her, his feet not able to move from their spot. He wanted to stop her, tell her that Darius had threatened him, that he would lose _everything_ if he left with her, that despite everything – he still loved her. He loved her the most.

Instead he watched as she reached his car and ripped open the door.

 _He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go.  
He doesn't want her, but he just won't let her go._

She fishtailed out of the parking lot and an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. He should chase after her, he knew, but Portia decided to walk out of the automatic double doors at that same time. Her arms crossed in front of her chest as the colder wind blew and chilled her bones. A hard-pressed expression was stuck on her face and she moved to stand in front of him.

He wouldn't look at her but stared down the road where Angie had disappeared.

"So'd you do it?" She asked, pursing her lips and looking up at him.

"Yes, Portia." He looked at her finally, hate flaring in his eyes for her. "Yes, I just broke the heart of the woman _I love._ "

She turned away as his words stung her before looking at him. "Good." She said, popping her hip out. "You need to go get changed. I'm getting picked up for Darius' party tonight real soon and I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't show up late…and drunk, _again_."

"Well, I'll more than likely be late. So be prepared."

"What?!" Portia stomped her foot. "You're doing this just to fuck with me!"

Tommy rolled his eyes, turning away from her and stalking back into the building. "No, I'm not." He said, not even acknowledging her over his shoulder as she followed behind him. "Angie took my keys."

Instant panic washed over her features but just as quickly as it showed, she composed herself. A sick feeling built up inside her, but she swallowed it down. "A-and you just let her? The Porsche was your baby."

"Well, she was pretty pissed off." He jammed the elevator button with more force than necessary. "And after all that I've done to her, she was right – she deserved to do this much. I don't really care if she took it or not. I can always get another one."

Portia's hands grew clammy as they both stepped inside the elevator, her arms still crossed in front of her chest. Maybe it best, as soon as she'd done the deed, she regretted it. As much as Tommy hurt her, tore her down, and fucked her over – she never wanted to see him hurt.

It probably was a bunch of bullshit anyway. Cutting brake lines only worked in movies. She was sure Angela would be fine, that next week she'd be back fighting with Tommy because he wanted to be with her…still.

 _She started breaking, but she still won't let it show.  
_

Tommy was elbow-to-elbow with label execs from America when he was ushered to the side by one of Darius' assistants. He followed behind the young lady and stopped in his tracks at the door of Darius' office, seeing two police officers waiting for him.

"Janet…" He turned to the assistant who had stopped in the doorway. Her hands were in the pockets of her jeans. "What's going on?"

"Mr. Quincy?" One of the officers spoke up. He was tall with a thick, red beard wrapping around his chin. Tommy's head whipped to meet the gaze of the officer that spoke. "There's been an accident tonight…with your car."

Suddenly it felt like the air had been drained from the room. He stepped back, his head feeling cloudy. An accident?

"Mr. Quincy," He repeated. "Did you know that someone else had your vehicle?"

 _Yes, I gave it to her._ His mind reeled, and his hands went up to his hair. Was she okay? What hospital was she in? Could he go see her? An accident. Oh, Angie.

"Mr. Quincy." The officer was in front of him now, his hand on his shoulder. "Was she permitted to have your vehicle?"

He met the officers gaze again and breathed out, "Yes." He nodded his head rapidly. "Yes, I let her take the keys."

Tommy stared off, remembering the look Angie had in her eye before she got in the car. He shivered as if he could still feel the wind whipping around him. He was shaken and brought back to the present. The present…where Angie was in an accident.

"What?" He said, not hearing what the officer had said. "Is Angie okay? Can you take me to her? I don't even care about the car. I'll get a new one. Is she alright? I need to see her…she probably thinks I'm mad at her for wrecking the Porsche."

"Mr. Quincy…" The officer's voice had a tone to it. He'd heard it before…no. Tommy stepped back again, realization washing over him.

"No…"

"Mr. Quincy – Ms. Jones was doing an excess of 177 kilometers per hour when she skidded off a remote area on Don Valley Parkway." Tommy felt everything begin to move in slow motion. "She collided with another car before the Porsche came into contact with a tree. She was then ejected from the vehicle and flew several hundred meters." Tom choked out a breath, his hands coming up to fist his hair. "She was pronounced dead on the scene, sir. I – I'm so sorry..."

 _He doesn't want her, but she just won't let him go…_

Portia found Tommy later, wallowing in a tumbler of Jack Daniels with tears fresh on his face. Darius informed her of what happened and where she could find her husband. Immediately she confessed to her older brother, knowing that an investigation would happen, and he promised that it would be taken care of – that she would be safe.

"Tommy…" She started as she leaned on the bar beside him.

"You – " He pointed his finger at her, obviously drunk. "should be happy! You've got me all to yourself." He swayed in the chair before tipping back and emptying the tumbler in his mouth. "Angela is **dead.** "

The words shook her to her core and she put a comforting hand on his back. "Tommy, come on…let's get you home…" She helped him stand and put his arm around her shoulder, shuffling towards the door.

"You know what's crazy, Porsh?" He said, his head lolling to the side as she pushed him up against the building that housed Dexterity so he wouldn't fall as they waited for a car to come around. "They didn't arrest me." She squinted her eyes at him, confused. His eyes could barely stay focused and she struggled to keep him standing, the alcohol weighing him down significantly. "It's my fault she's dead. If I hadn't told her we'd run away and then rip those plans out from underneath her." He made a 'woosh' sound as his hands made like he'd ripped something. "She'd still be alive."

Portia looked at him with a pained expression, knowing that any words she would say could and would be twisted by him.

"I'm no good, Porsh." He said, shaking his head and causing his whole body to shift. Portia stumbled sideways as she struggled to keep him up. "I hurt her…I hurt you…I hurt everyone."

"I'm so sorry, Tommy." She whispered though he did not hear her.

He stared off into the night, tears so full in his blue eyes as he repeated himself. "I'm no good…no good. Hurt her, hurt you…everyone. All I do is hurt…"

~ The End ~


End file.
